the second time around, you know it really got me down.
sister don’t you judge it, just keep it to yourself now. and
if you ain’t got nothing good to say, don’t say nothing at all.
i go bitten by the bitter bug, and now i just can’t get enough
of ill will and my own conceit. i’m weary of the world it seems.
i’m weary of the world, weary of the world it seems.
it’s sort of always gone my way. i’m just a little bit off these
days. like i’ve had hard knocks all my life, like i’m a bible
belt wife. like i didn’t see it coming, like i didn’t walk it
see, i never want to sing again. la la la like a b*tterfly.
without my wits about me, without my heart in line.
third time’s a charm and this mine.
you said you heard loretta sing and felt the loneliness
seeping in. the cowboys made you uneasy, you’re a
god-fearing lesbian. so you learn not to yearn and you
take it on the chin again.
here’s what i find about compromise-don’t do it if it
hurts inside, cause either way you’re screwed, eventually
you’ll find. you may as well feel good; you may as well
have some pride.
come august we’ll go to cherokee and hear loretta do
her thing. pack it into the indian casino and make the
hillbilly scene, kick up our heels and join in.
are you my ally or my enemy? do you have
self-loathing or empathy? can you keep me in your prayers
sister. can you keep me in there somewhere? and
sister if you ain’t go nothing good to say:don’t say
nothing at all.